Christine's Diary
by ktswaz
Summary: An account Christine's night alone with her nightingale after her last performance as a Diva. SK universe.
1. Default Chapter

In a very unusual way, I think I'm in love with you.  
In a very unusual way, I want to cry.  
Something inside me goes weak, something inside me  
surrenders,  
And you're the reason why,  
You're the reason why.  
You don't know what you do to me.  
You don't have a clue.  
You can't tell what it's like to be me looking at  
you.

Special to me in my life,  
Since the first day that I met you.  
How could I ever forget you,  
Once you had touched my soul?  
In a very unusual way, you've made me whole.

Maury Yeston's Nine 'Unusual Way

How strange that Raoul's outburst did not make me fret as it would have only weeks ago. All I could think of returning to my Angel, Erik. I didn't feel frightened of returning to his dark world. I only felt his tugging, his awesome love. I felt peaceful, serene. Without saying anything to my little maid I slipped into the night with the key. In my determination I completely forgot to be scared of walking the dark street of Paris that would lead me to the Opera Garnier and Erik. Oh, Erik, I miss you so much! I was astonished how easy Erik's 'front door' had opened. I gingerly made my way to his home. What assaulted my disbelieving eyes when the Persian opened the gate brought tears instantly to my eyes. The black candles ripped in half, their candelabra knocked to the floor. His beloved masterpiece, Don Juan Triumphant rend apart. The beautiful pipe organ he would sit behind for hours composing his music, split from the wall. It laid on the Persian rug in pieces. My instinct was to set the room as it was once. But my need to see Erik was far greater. As if he was psychic Nadir simply pointed to my room. I don't even know if he saw my nod. I'm not sure if my feet touched the floor as I approached the closed door. My hands were clammy as I reached for the brass knob. Afraid of what laid behind the ornate door. I tried to wipe the sweat on my plain gray skirt. There was my beautiful Angel lying listlessly on the bed he was born in. I gasped involuntarily. Even after his last attack he never looked this afflicted. My poor Erik! I flew to his side with thoughts of adoration and health. His mismatched eyes fluttered open, I attempt to smile; but seeing him so made me want to cry. He frowned immediately, I had hoped that our reunion would bring him joy. To soothe his aching soul. He muttered "Not this dream again." So he didn't think I would return. Of course, my darling I would fight to revisit you. I have made my decision to come back to you, my love. It was a conclusion that I did not make lightly. God, forgive me for hurting Raoul, but Erik needs me more. And for the first time I'll be utterly truthful I need him too. Why hadn't I seen this before? My desire for him. I don't mean just carnally, I desire his heart, soul and music. I want to share his life.

I tell him I'm not his imagination . That I'm real. To prove to him I call Nadir into the room. I remove his gleaming white mask, which I gave to Erik's only friend. He respire in surprise. I begin to kiss him all over. Even the part of the world he hides from the world! I never heard the Persian leave, but the next time I glance around he wasn't there. I was grateful to have some time alone with Erik. I so wanted to rant for him not to die and leave me alone. Not when I finally realized I love him passionately. I cautiously sit down on the mattress beside him. I succeed in smiling at him in spite of my fear of losing him. My heart pounded against the walls of my chest, unsure what to do next.

"You come back?" He asked as if he was still uncertain.

"Yes, Erik." I whisper.

"Why? Why did that damn boy ever allow you to return?" Raoul?

"You asked him to bring me back." I remind him.

"I thought that the Vicomte had more sense to let you return to me." Why had you requested it? "I thought he would protect you better, my dear." He persisted.

"I came here without Raoul." I explain. "He doesn't know I'm here."

"You must leave here at once, my child!"

"I'm not a child. And I'm definitely not your child, Erik." I scream. He looked shocked at my outburst. I fear that I've hurt him once again. So I explicate. "I love you. Not as a child loves her father, but as a woman loves a man."

"Christine, I'm not a man," He persevered. "I'm but a monster."

"Stop believing the world. You are worthy of love." I murmur. He is quiet for a long while, I fear he will not answer.

"I quite forgive you, Christine. I do not need your pity."

"Pity? You think I do this out of ruth?"

"I release you completely!"

"But I don't want to be released." I say urgently. Why didn't he believe me? "I want to be here. I want to be your wife!" So I said it, what laid in my heart. He looks at me with dismay. "I mean it!"I reply fiercely. Hoping he will accept my words.

"Why? How?"

"I don't know, Erik. I just do." I tell him honestly. He begins to cry. "Oh, Erik. Please don't cry, my darling." I plead.

"I cry with joy. No one in my fifty odd years has ever told me they love me." No one? Not his mother? A friend? All of what I know of him makes perfect sense now. His constant anger and hatred of humanity.

"My poor darling. The world is remiss for you are loved totally." Erik closes his eyes as if to let my words wash over him.

"I love you, Christine!"

"I know." Peace floods through my veins like melted gold. I look down at our entwined hands. There in the candlelight the ring he had once proffered gleamed. I lift his hand reverently slipping off the gold band. I looked up at him to make sure he was watching my movements. And he was, raptly, in fact. I slip it on the finger that it should be on. He brings my hand to his lips and kiss it. Shivers of desire ripple through me. How I want him! My new husband! I was still timid about these belated responses. But my dread that Erik would believe that I held back due to his face was surpassing.

"Thank you, Christine." Erik spoke quietly I'm still not sure whether it was weakness or veneration.

"Thank you?"

"For telling a dying man the words he has yearned to hear all of his life."

Tears sprang to my eyes. "Erik, my love, you are not going to die." I exclaim earnestly.

"I am." Erik continued.

"No, you can't. I need you." I stammer.

"You don't, not really. You will go home and marry Raoul." I can't believe what I'm hearing. He has fought my childhood sweetheart at every step and now he gives his bloody blessing. Just when I no longer have desire to wed Raoul. The only reason why I agreed to be come his wife to escape my very adult feelings for my Angel. But I'm no longer the scared little mouse. I'm ready to explore these amorous feelings for the man beside me. I've never wanted to hurt my youthful protector, but I must follow my heart. I will always love the young boy that retrieved my favorite red scarf from the sea.

"I don't want to marry Raoul." I whimper. "I want to be with you."

"Christine, my muse, I will be not on this earth much longer." He says quietly. I begin to sob uncontrollably. A part of knew he was telling the truth. The larger part of wanted rant and rave, to beg him not to leave me alone. I was already lonely. There was a huge gapping hole in my heart. It was yet dubious on what was proper between a husband and wife. Could I commence our corporeal expression of our mutual feelings. More importantly would may loving husband be able to perform? His agone heart attack left him torpid. I mounted my questions far more worried that he would indeed die without us ever making love. I lean forward so that our lips touch, instantly one of my questions was answered. Erik grasped my shoulder, holding me to him. When we separate we are both gasping for air. I've never felt so free before, not even when I let myself go in the music as I dance. A long finger brush an errant curl out of my glowing eyes. My own hands travel to his beautiful face, before I capture his mouth once more. Our tongues begin the age old dance. A shiver of satisfaction ran up and down my spine. I was in heaven, yes, he must be an Angel. How could he not be? Just when I get acquainted with one feeling another shoots through me. This time instead of being fearful I embrace it. My hands had a mind of their own, they slip inside his immaculate jacket urging the expensive material down his surprisingly vigorous arms in spite of ill-health. It might have been pure animal instinct or he could have very mindful of his every move. He lifted himself off the mattress so that I could dispose of his jacket. Oh lord we're about to make love. I still had to remove his glimmering alabaster shirt. Damn! My usually nimble fingers were inept with the pearl buttons. A shock of desire shoot through me as our flesh meet as my fingers graze his throat. Our breathing is in sync, ragged. I hold a breath in anticipation as I gather the linen shirt from the top of his black pants. Eyeing his chest as my lover undid the cuff links and buttons. All that needed to be done was to strip it off. I don't remember how it was removed...I was hypnotized by his fingers as they went to take the pins out of my russet hair. His elongated fingers massaged my scalp. Which solicited a moan of pleasure from me. He smiles as he examines my hair as it tumbles down onto my shoulders. I must have blushed under his ever intense gaze. I turn around so that my paramour could unfasten my day dress, gently he pushes the muslin from my shaking shoulders.. Everywhere he touches my skin burns. Soon after that I sat there only in my shift and corset. I suppose I should have been shy at being this undressed in front of a man. Instead I bask under his passionate regard. My dress laid in a heap on the floor.

"My darling Christine." His words turns my face crimson. "You are so beautiful." For the first time since my father died I did feel fetching.

"So are you, my beloved." I was his turn to blush. I had been the first person to ever tell him that he wasn't a monster, gargoyle or, 'the living corpse'. To look past his unsightly face and look into his soul. It was beautiful, he created breathtaking things. His lips devoured mine with such fierce emotion. All the while his agile fingers tugged at the laces of my stays desperately. That too lay at my feet now. Erik, bright, yet mismatched eyes now stared with unveiled hunger at my breast. How the ache for his touch. Am I being risque in writing of our only night of passion? But I need to document it to prove to myself that it indeed occurred. For what seemed to be a very long time I felt my husband's hand on my breast. I gasp with pleasure, surely I was going to die from this much joy. I whimper my disappointment when he removed his hand.

"You must loose you shift." He informs me huskily. Oh flesh on flesh! I nodded my consent and agreement. The room's cool air kisses my exposed skin making me dither. Sitting up my Angel bent down to buss my bosom. I groan with acute delight close my eyes to let the new sensation wash over. Before I can protest the sudden absence of his mouth, he lavishes the same attention on its twin. Without knowing it I climb further into the bed. With strength I didn't know he possessed he brings me underneath him. Yes, now I am absolutely positive that I will die of such elation. His fist clutched at the cotton at my hips, displacing it further down my thighs. My own were not becalmed by any means, I was attempting to free him the confines of the pitch fabric trousers.


	2. Your Love Will Live in Me!

Why is love so easy to give and so hard to receive?

But though I want to live, I now can leave with what I never knew;

I'm someone to be loved.

And I learned that from you.

I don't know how I let you so far inside my mind,

but there you are and there you will stay.

How could I ever wish you away?

I see now I was blind.

And should you die tomorrow,

another thing I see:

You love will live in me.

_Sondheim Passion: Finale _

It was much better than any other girls in the company had ever described. How I want to purr like Ayesha as I laid there in my beloved's arms.

"So this is peace?" He whispered hoarsely. My heart burst at the idea that I gave him a taste of repose. Erik deserved more than anyone alive serenity.

"This has to be heaven." I submit, I could feel rather than see him grin.

"I concur. I've thought about this for a very long time. I never imagined it would happen."

"I must confess, Erik so have I." Never have I ever seen him more astonished.

"To be with a man?" He asks still not able to grasp that a woman might desire him.

"No, to make love with you." I correct him. How many nights did I wonder how it would feel to give into his complete passion? Every encounter with Raoul had always been chaste, but with Erik our meetings were without end charged with sexual tension. That is why I ran towards Raoul, he was safe. I no longer wanted to be sheltered, guarded.

" I had never hoped to hear a woman utter those marvelous words to me." He says almost sadly. I want to stay there in his strong arms for an eternity. "Better late than never."

"I'm sorry."

"What do you have to apologize for, Christine?" He requests. "You have made me the happiest man on earth!"

"For many things for hurting you, for being frightened."

"My love, this face has frightened many people over the years." He consoles.

"No, Erik, I was never afraid of your face. I was scared of the feelings you enticed in me. If I hadn't been so afraid we would have had more time together."

You were but a child. And were ill-equipped to handle some of the feelings that comes with love...until now. I have sensed a change in you, my darling." So I wasn't the only one?

"You are no longer a child." He exclaims wistfully.

"Would you want me to be...a child?" I ask seductively.

He chuckles. "No."

"Good." I reply, satisfied.

"I love you, Christine." I heard him say those four words before, but I'll never tire of hearing them.

"And I you, Erik." I assure him.

"I know ." I could barely keep a train of thought, my lover was absently tracing circles with his fingertips. Is there nothing his fingertips can't do? He sighs contentedly.

"Me too." I whisper. But how long will this tranquility last? No I will myself not to think of losing my beloved. No I will not shadow our happiness. For it may be short and will have to last me until death can reunite us.

"Christine, I want you to listen to me carefully." He instructs seriously.

"Alright."

"I want you to be happy." I frown.

"I AM happy, Erik. Blissful, in fact."

Once I'm gone." He explains. Are we back to that? How can he think I can be happy without him? "I want you continue on with your plans with the Vicomte." Marry Raoul? Take another husband? "Marry him. Have many babies. Try to forget about me." He pleads.

"Forget you, my Angel?" I ask. "That's impossible!"

"Live a full life. Be happy! That's all I want for you, Christine." He coaxes. "The Vicomte I'm sure will take care of you, protect, love you."

"Of course." I agree. "That's not what bothers me, Erik. It's me."

"You?"

"I will forever love you! I can never love Raoul the way I adore you." I tell him urgently. "I will want to be with you."

"Remember our time together tonight."

"How could I forget?" I will have to share a bed with another man. The thought fills me with dread.

"Just be happy, Christine."

"I'll try."I promise. For him I would do anything.

"Thank you."

"That doesn't mean, Erik , that I as your wife give you permission to die." A chuckle rumbles in his chest.

"Noted." We laid in silence, it was minutes before he spoke again. His next request threw me out of whirl. "Will you help me dress, my Angel?" I am stunned to say the least.

"Of course." I consent.

"I want to prepare for the inevitable ." He promulgate. Death, he wants me assist in readying him for his demise. "Dress first, my dear." Damn him! How can he be so blasted calm? As if we are to go to dinner. Not trusting my voice I silently rise, retrieve my clothing. He seems to be studying me as I dress. I suppose I should have been diffident being naked in front of him, but I wasn't. This will be the last time my husband will see me au naturel.

Once I was completed I turn to him, tears shining in my eyes. He holds his arms out to me. I fling myself into their waiting refuge . I sob into his chest! "Ssh, don't cry. You have given me more in these last few hours than I ever dreamed of. I can truly die happy, Christine." He says soothingly.

"I don't want you to die, Erik." I weep. "I'll be all alone."

"You will never be alone. I'll watch over you, I promise." That's not nearly enough. I want him beside me everyday and in bed with me every night. We were suppose to have children to help fill our home with music.

"How can I help?" I stutter.

"I should probably dress, dearest." He pointed out. He was right, of course. I could not let the man I love go to his death naked.

"What shall I get you?"

"I don't care, all I want is to go with style." I went to the wardrobe where he kept his perfect suits. I picked one of black velvet, cut beautifully. I brought forth a bright white linen shirt, silk cravat and a brocade vest to complete the outfit. I carefully place them on a nearby chair. I help him put each article on loving the feel of him beneath my touch . Oh Erik! He looked so handsome. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful." For the first time in our year long relationship I saw my beloved teacher, friend, love and husband glow with joy. "Every other angel in heaven will be envious." For no one else in all of the heaven could create more beautiful music. "I love you so much, Erik."

"I know." He affirm with a grin. "Christine, my love my body is weak." He was slowly going into a speech I don't want to hear. "Weak as it may be I am beyond ecstatic and that is because of you my miraculous girl and your wondrous love. All my life I thought death would be a welcome end to my eternal misery. But now it is as if I'm going to the light. A place I've dreamt of every moment of my existence. I have truly lived in these blissful hours with you. I will take these lesson you've taught me on my journey." I taught my adored teacher something? "I will take with me something I never knew I am someone to be loved." My poor darling! He died twenty minutes later in my arms. I cried myself dry before taking the only other soul who will miss Erik as much as I, Ayesha! She seems to be taking her beloved master's eternal rest like his distraught wife. For the first time in our acquaintance she appeared to be consoling me. She leaps into my arms as we face the world without Erik together...

I barely remember opening the bedroom door, but gentle hands clasp my numb arms. Then there was Raoul, he smiles weakly at me. Do I see sympathy in his handsome features? I am vaguely aware of the brief conversation a grief-stricken Nadir and my future husband. Once again gropes across the River Seine . I leave my heart back with my deceased lover.

I don't recall much from the carriage ride. I slept most of the ride back to my rooms. I thanked my fiancee with a feeble smile. And making the climb to my flat. I place my new companion on my bed before undressing on a cotton nightgown. I collapse into bed the cat stands up and comes to lay next to me. As if touching me she will find Erik again. She is the only other soul that mirrors my suffering. Will this pain ever go away?

When I wore the proceeding morning I still exhausted as if I hadn't even rested. Oh how I miss you, Erik! I sleepwalk to the lavatory to splash water onto face. I looked like a ghost. White as a sheet with deep, dark circles under my bloodshot eyes. A pale reflection of the woman I was yesterday. But yesterday I was a wife, today I am a widow. I can hear poor Ayesha wail while I putter around the facility. Not prepared to face a world without my beloved tutor. But I knew Raoul would be by to check on me. I must be the actress that Erik molded me to be. I would smile be demur and agree to everything he asks. Oh, this is wrong! To marry another man!

Like clockwork Raoul arrived shortly after the clock stroke ten. He was all smiles full of reassurance. That we would be married as soon as the arrangements could be made. I told him, we should wait a month so he could be sure that he still desired to make me his wife. It would also give me time to mourn Erik properly. Confused, my poor visitor agreed. At the end of that period of time the Vicomte continues with our matrimonial plans. I will become his wife. I will honor my promise to Erik. No matter however painful it may be!

I'm on honeymoon trip to England my new husband is thinking of stay there for an extended time . Of course I accept his decision he deserves that much. I'm pregnant! I know I am! Oh what am I to do? To tell my new spouse that he is to be a father? But the child is not his. It is Erik's! I am so happy to have a piece of my beloved again! If the child resembles Erik, Raoul will probably want a divorce despite of his strong Catholic faith. I could not ask him to live with a remainder of where my heart lies. But I wouldn't care what my child looks like I will love it just the same. I will not damn Erik's child to endure his father's hard life.. He/she will have a mother's love. I wish that Erik could be here to help raise his progeny. To present him with another soul who will offer undying love. A balm on his gapping wound in his soul. For the child I will tell Raoul. But how he will take the news?

Raoul is elated by the news of my coming confinement. He giggled like the school boy he was once. In his felicity he even tried to make friends with Ayesha. Who had no part of it. In fact she bit him. I swear she knows the truth. The cat protects me fiercely. Much like she guarded the child's father. Oh goodness I loathe London, it so dreary! It's so far from Paris, Meg, Madame Giry, and most of all Erik. I got a note a few weeks ago from Nadir Khan to tell that he buried my beloved husband near my father. I'm glad that will be under God's protection. Though I will not be able to defend him myself. I put the letter safe in the box once owned by my mother where she placed all of her most prized possessions. It is here I kept the golden band that my Angel gave me and a few of the white roses he presented me after each performance. I have a red rose growing inside of my womb. A gift from my nightingale. Come and sing to us!

Raoul treats me as though I will shatter into a thousand pieces like glass. I keep insisting I won't. He is the kindest man I've known. I have a great affection for him. He gives me anything I desire or need. He showers me with little gifts, kisses and other tokens of esteem. I hope I am returning his regard but my heart isn't in it. I'm still mourning Erik. I feel as though I'll never stop! Really Raoul deserves better than that.

I feel so damn fat! Ellen, my maid had to loosen the laces of my corset this morning. I must stop this vanity, this anger against my unborn child. The mid-wife says it's a son. Raoul is happy that there will be a son to carry on De Changy name into the 20th century. All I could think was that Erik has a son.

Charles Raoul De Chagny was born a few weeks ago. I've had a difficult confinement. Shut in a dark room to prevent any seizures My loving husband would come and sit with me. From my bed I could feel his fear. His fear of losing me, a woman whose heart belongs to another man. Poor Raoul! I was told that the doctor had to cut me open to retrieve my perfect Charles. As I recuperate my spouse, bless his heart was left to care for our son. I have a feeling that he knows of Charles' true parentage. I wait for him to come to me and demand answers, to yell. But he never does. Instead he comes with our bouncing boy and lavish us both with admiration. Charles coos joyfully at the sight of our dear guardian. His perfect little fist reaches up and grabs Raoul's finger. Who of course chuckles with fatherly pride. How my husband loves my son. As I look down I feel sad that Charles will never know my nightingale. The boy has the most intense blue stare like he is looking straight into my soul.. Erik could do the ver same thing, at one time it unnerved me. When I feed my darling boy he loves to grab my hair. He seems to be the vision of Erik without the flaw. I know every mother believes that her baby is the most beautiful of them all. But I know that my little red rose is truly the most beautiful little boy. After all, he was created out of love that was passionate, pure and expressed to its fullest. Oh Erik, my love, I miss you! What do you think of your son? Everyday I see more and more of you, my nightingale in him. I wonder if he'll have your inclination to music? It will be a small part of your music with me again. How I've missed hearing these haunting melodies.

My poor Raoul he is a wonderful father. Attentive, affectionate, willing to learn how to parent. I feel guilty every day but I would be doing more harm than good by telling the truth. I would be taking a bright spot in my husband's life and robbing my darling son of the only father he has ever known and will know. It pains me greatly to know that Charles will never know Erik. Not that he is in need of anything, Raoul makes sure that we have everything we need or want. It is hard not to love my husband for his generosity. I try to be a good wife to him, but I don't know if I succeed. I fill with wifely pride at his success in his business. I attend to my job as hostess, smile, talk of superficial things, flatter them all. It is enough?

My husband rarely comes to my bed. For months he said it was due to Charles' difficult birth. Now he can no longer tell me that lie. Is this because he knows the truth? Have I failed him any other way? Does he really hate me and his kindness is only because of bred honor? What have I damned the both of us to? Hell? Two people that pass one another in the hall, say a cordial word at the table? I will do the noble thing and release to him someone else who can adore him way he deserves to be.

I talked to Raoul today. I caught him alone in his study after tea. I asked if I could have a word with him. Immediately he dropped what he had been reading and offered me his undivided attention.

"Is there something wrong with Charles?"

"No, no. Charles is fine." I assure him as I meekly sit in the other chair. "Have I done something wrong Raoul?"

"Wrong?" Raoul replies, surprised.

"Yes, Charles was born nearly a year ago. And you have come to me yet." I hear him let go of a labored breath.

"No, my darling Christine you haven't done anything wrong. You see the doctor told me when our little angel was born that you can not have anymore children. It may kill you if we try." I heard the pain of the thought of losing me in his alto voice. I let out a breath I had been holding.

"So you don't hate me?"

"Hate you? Of course not. I love you!" He loves me! "I'm deeply sorry that you thought I could hate you, dearest." He says with a sadness I wasn't prepared for.

"Maybe it's me, darling." I submit quietly. "I've heard women are emotional after giving birth."

"You thought I hated you."

"I mean, I probably blew everything out of proportion, Raoul." I explain.

"No, you're right. I've neglected you."

"Dearest, you haven't. You've been nothing but kind and gentle with me." I promise. He smiles at me. His azure eyes sparkle.

"A marriage can not be built on generosity and compassion, Christine."

"Of course not."

"It has to have secure foundation in love."

"I agree, Raoul." I tell him quietly.

"I'm glad we agree." He replies happily.

"I do love you, Raoul." Just not in the way I love Erik.

He nods. "I know, dearest." A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. ""You've had a difficult year. No one expect you to bounce back so quickly." Is he talking about Erik or my confinement? Yes, my life has been severe, but I would not change a minute. After I got one blissful night of concupiscence with Erik. Out of that we created our red rose. Although Raoul will never understand why, but I forgive my beloved for all of the crimes he committed against me. For I alone knew he horrors he suffered by those he met including myself. Even though I know I have been granted forgiveness I will forever carry the burden of guilt.

My husband at last came to me last night. He was tender with me. Although I found pleasure in our lovemaking. It was extremely different than my single night with Erik. For Raoul can never be carried away with passion like my only other lover. I was though not at all disappointed This was dissimilar than our other times earlier in our marriage. This time I wasn't trying to mask my mourning for another man and my one experience. Strange as it may seem Icould give myself to the man I married completely. Lying there in his arms I wondered if he could tell the difference.

I never thought that a night with my husband could be so therapeutic for my soul. It was as if the mist that had settled across my eyes had been lifted. This is not to say I had let go of my devotion to Erik. No one has ever loved me as deeply as you.


End file.
